Life is good
by themagebear
Summary: A short, fluffy piece about everyone's favorite pair of archers, Wil and Rebecca. A twoshot with an epilogue. The magebear's first completed story. Epilogue needs some re-tooling. Will get around to revamping it at some point.
1. Quivering Heart

DISCLAIMER 

The magebear is not responsible for any dental problems resulting from this sugary piece of tooth-rotting fluff.

Now that that's out of the way, the magebear welcomes you to its latest piece, a three-shot celebrating the ultimate same-class canon pairing in all of Fire Emblem; Wil and Rebecca. This is Quivering Heart, the chapter from Becca's POV. Enjoy. Or don't. The magebear doesn't really care.

I steal a quick glance over to him. We are lying prone on a large hill on Valor, only a few hundred yards away from the final culmination of our journey: Dragon's Gate. He is cool and composed, a complete flip from my own feelings. His composure never lessens, as he nocks an arrow, wriggles to the tip of the hill, and fires from the ground, then slides back down next to me. I could never master a trick like shooting from the ground. The closest I can come to trick-shooting is speed-shooting. I can shoot a dozen arrows in a little under a minute. Which is impressive, but doesn't compare to his skill.

I remember back at home, he would constantly show off different tricks: behind-the-back, knock an apple off someone's head (Dan always volunteered his head. To this day I have no idea why, although I think it may have been to show off his bravery to some local girls), blindfolded (this was always done in a remote clearing in the woods, near an old abandoned fort near the village), and just-demonstrated prone shooting. Before he left, he even shot an arrow with a note attached into the little wooden wind chime hanging in my window; it never sounded the same after that. I still haven't forgiven him, though he has probably forgotten about that by now.

Once he is finally settled against me again, I relax. It scares me, knowing that each one of his little potshots at the mages on the other side of the hill makes it more likely for them to send someone over to deal with us. They are hassled enough with Florina, Farina, and Fiora swooping in at them all the time. But I trust him, I know that 'he will protect me', although I've saved him as many times as he has saved me, if not more. But it's still sweet of him.

Out of nowhere, a flash of lightning strikes right next to me, sending dirt and rocks flying in every direction. Before I know what is happening, he has rolled on top of me, using his body to shield me from the debris. As I look up at him, a grimace of pain flashes across his face, but it is quickly replaced with his customary grin. I frown. I'm going to have to take a look at his back later. A second later, a rock smashes into his arm. I think. I assume that is what happened, because on second he is grinning, then there is the _crunch _of a bone breaking, then he lands on top of me, his right arm twisted into an unnatural angle, lightly pressing into my stomach. I think he had passed out from the pain. Although the feeling of his body on mine is definitely one I could get used to, now is not the time.

Since the Bolt was fairly eyecatching, we already had the attention of several people. Eliwood and Sain came galloping over, a somewhat pale Serra hanging on to Sain's waist for dear life. When they stopped in front of us, Eliwood slid off smoothly, then helped Serra down as Sain dismounted. Serra gave the two very specific orders about how to move him so as to not do further damage to his arm. She thinks it is shattered.

I can barely hear her. All my senses have closed except to him. I can only see him, how he unconsciously winces every time the two men accidentally jostle him. I can only hear him, the groans of pain occasionally coming from his mouth. I can only smell him, the blood staining my shirt, and still flowing freely. I can only feel him, my hand gently closing around his left hand, as if to reassure him that everything will be alright. They slowly lift him onto a makeshift stretcher slung between the two horses. I walk beside him all the way to the healer's tent.

I awaken slowly, my mind groggy. I am not in my tent, and something is petting my head. Suddenly, the events of the previous day (at least, I _think_ it's the previous day) wash over me. I look up. There he is, his arm in a splint, smiling down at me.

I had stayed by his bed all night, never once letting go of his hand as Serra splinted his arm. After she left, I laid my head on his chest. I remember thinkinghe was in this situation because of me. Because he was trying to protect me. He's so stupid sometimes. He just had to cover me like that. I would rather have been charred by the spell than see such an expression of pain on his face. But at the same time, I'm glad he did it, because if anything had happened to me, it would be him sitting here, blaming himself for not protecting me. I think I cried myself to sleep.

I sit up. He motions with his good hand for me to come up on the bed next to him. I do, and we sit there in silence, my head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, his arm around me, his hand resting on my tummy. I don't mind. I ask him what time it is. He doesn't know, but it is getting darker outside. Serra returns, Lord Hector and Mark close behind. They all have grim expressions. It can't be good news. Serra says that if his arm doesn't heal properly, he will never be able to use his arm, much less shoot a bow, ever again. I felt his arm tense around me, and I give his hand a reassuring squeeze. Mark speaks up. He says that to prevent any further damage, they are going to leave the camp, and him, where they are, and will continue to Dragon's Gate. He simply bows his head in resignation.

But there is more. Once they reach Dragon's Gate, Mark will decide how much of the army will be able to maneuver effectively within the building, and he will send the others back. But it will still be a few hours, both for them to get there, then to come back. Lord Hector says that I am to stay with him, for protection. I grimace. Hopefully it won't end up like yesterday, when _he _protected _me_.

After saying their farewells, they leave the tent. I can hear the sound of hooves pounding the ground, accompanied by dozens of booted feet. The army is moving out, leaving us alone. I look up at him again. He is asleep. He looks so peaceful. All I can think is how much I love him. After the war, he has promised me that he will return to the village with me. I think we are going to get married. I hope so. There is no one I would rather spend the rest of my life with. I snuggle closer to him. The problem is, as sociable as he is, when it comes to dealing with matters of the heart, he is as shy as Florina. I'm starting to get tired of waiting for him.

His eyes open slowly; he isn't completely awake yet. I grin at him, then give him a quick kiss on the lips. His eyes widen. I have never been that bold before. I decide to break tradition. I ask him if, when we get back to the village, he will marry me. His jaw drops, and he starts sputtering nonsense. Finally, I grab his lips, hold them shut, and tell him to nod yes or shake his head no.

He nods. I give a squeak of delight, and wrap my arms around his neck, planting a big kiss on his mouth. After that, I lay my head on his shoulder, content to simply be with the man I love, my future husband. He is still wide-eyed, babbling about what our parents will think and what he will do about getting me a ring, throwing in something about how much he loves me every once in a while. Eventually, I shut him up with a full-mouth, saliva-swapping kiss, only breaking it to come up for air. I think I might love him more when he _isn't _talking.

I smile. Life is good.

The magebear knows this chapter wasn't fluffy so much as semi-angsty, but the magebear hates angst, so it promises that everything will be okay. The next chapter will definitely be fluffier.


	2. Bowed Head

DISCLAIMER 

The magebear is not responsible for any dental problems resulting from this sugary piece of tooth-rotting fluff.

Now that that's out of the way, the magebear welcomes you to its latest piece, a three-shot celebrating the ultimate same-class canon pairing in all of Fire Emblem; Wil and Rebecca. This is Bowed Head, the chapter from Wil's POV. Enjoy. Or don't. The magebear doesn't really care.

We are on Dread Isle. This is our second visit, and hopefully the final one. We were nearing Dragon's Gate when one of Nergal's morphs appeared with an army. Since Nergal had probably saved the best for last, it was quite likely his most powerful one, too. The two of us are now lying on a hill in the entrance to the valley between the mountains. According to Mark, our tactician, it is the fastest way through. It is also the most heavily guarded. So he dispatched five of us to serve as a distraction for the majority of the morphs; Florina, Fiora, Farina, her, and me. We are sniping at the mages in the valley from the hills while the pegasus sisters harry them from the mountains. Well, at least I'm sniping. She got the crazy idea that we are only there to provide cover fire if the situation gets too hairy for the fliers from Ilia.

Mark has sent the mounted units, the spell casters, and Dart across the bridge to the north, to secure a set of ruins. Dart is then supposed to cross the mountains below one set of ruins to secure another set on the other side, with the casters providing support with long-range spells. The cavalry are there to guard them from possible reinforcements from that direction.

The other non-mounted units are going through a pass to the southeast, where they will circle around the mountains, hitting the druids and wyverns there from behind, then coming back into the pass, where we are to join up with them to finish off the remaining enemies.

After all this, we will attack the morph- I think her name is Lipstick or something- from three sides. I remember him trying to explain it, but all I got was something about 'modified pincer movement', then he gave up, shook his head, and told us to get into positions.

I slither up to the top of the hill. In the valley, there is a mage hidden in the trees, where the pegasus sisters can't see him. That is not a good thing. Still laying on the ground, so as to present as little a target for my enemies as possible, I aim at the mage. Once I release, I only move after I see the arrow in flight. Sliding back down, I hear a scream. Bull's-eye.

That's just one of my few talents, is firing from the ground. Back home, all those years ago, I used to put on little shows for her. Of course, she probably doesn't know they were for her, because I never actually said it, and also because the other kids from the village always came to watch. There was one time I shot an apple off of Dan's head. I even shot blindfolded a few times, though after the incident with the marmot, I stopped. When I was leaving, I even shot a note into her window, so she wouldn't be too worried. She is a big worrier.

_Dear Rebecca,_

_Uh, hi. This is from me, Wil. Just wanted to let you know where me and Dan are going. We are leaving this backwater town to make our fortunes, so don't worry about us. We will come back. After all, I _really _want to see you again. _

_Your best friend,_

_Wil_

I don't think she even read the note, because when we met up for the first time in years, in Lord Hector's army, she accused me of leaving without letting her know. She hasn't forgiven me, but I have no idea why.

After I'm settled next to her again, I can feel her body relax. Like I said, she's a big worrier. She probably thinks that I will do something stupid to draw the mages over here. Not a chance. I time my shots with the three sisters attacks, so well they probably don't even realize my arrow isn't one of the girls' javelins until the look at it.

I glance over at her. She has this cute little expression on her face, the one she gets whenever she thinks I've done something stupid. I can barely contain a grin. One side of her mouth is turned up, while the other side is turned down. Her nose is scrunched up, and slightly turned to one side. If she had been standing, her arms would be crossed over, uh, under her, uh, chest, and her left foot would be tapping lightly.

It is only because I am looking at her that I notice the danger. I see a glow above us, and I realize that one of the mages has a Bolting tome. Flux. As I start to feel the energy in the air coalesce into a mighty burst of destruction, I move to cover her with my body. No reason she should suffer for my stupidity.

Too late. The Bolt strikes right next to her. If the mage hadn't missed, she would be dead and it would be my fault. At least I can shelter her from debris. The place that was struck erupted, and is shooting pieces of dirt and stone on every direction. Placing myself on all fours over her, I struggle to keep the winces, due to the stuff scraping my back, neck, and legs, from reaching my face. I put on my customary grin, as if to say that I'm fine.

An instant later, I feel a pain in my arm so bad that I have never felt anything like it. It must be like how Dan felt, back when he got attacked by that stag. After that I can't feel my arm anymore. I realize that I'm falling, likely because my arm is no longer supporting my weight. The last thing I see before blacking out from a sudden jab of pain that shoots up from my arm is her face, staring at me in horror. All I can think is that I hope she is alright, that I haven't hurt her.

When I wake up, she is sitting on a stool next to me, her head on my lap, fast asleep, a line of drool coming out of the corner of her mouth. I can't help but grin. I bet she stayed by my bed all night, waiting for me to wake up. I can see the path the tears made in the dirt and grime on her cheeks. She didn't even wash up before coming to my bedside. It wouldn't surprise me at all if she hadn't left my side since the battle. I feel a pang of guilt, knowing I made her stay up for nothing, but it is quickly overwhelmed by the feeling of happiness that she would do such a thing for me.

Me, the one who abandoned her. I notice with relief that she isn't hurt anywhere, either, not even a scratch. I start stroking her hair. Her long, beautiful hair. She has let it out of its braids, and it is flowing down her back like a cascade of tiny, shimmering emeralds. I can't help but pet her. I could get used to waking up like this, with the woman I love beside me. That clinches it. As soon as we get back to the village, I'm going to ask her father for her hand in marriage.

She slowly starts waking up. When she glances around, I can tell she is confused. After she sits up and recognized where she is, and more importantly, who she's with, realization dawns. A faint blush spreads across her cheeks. I smile at her, then motion for her to join me on the bed. Her face flushes a little more, but she nods. She lays against my only semi-hurt side, and rests her head on my chest. It then occurs to me that I'm not wearing a shirt. I can feel her wonderful hair brushing against my skin. It is a blissful. I put my arm around her, wrapping under her shoulder so I can lay my hand on her stomach. I feel so peaceful, like nothing could spoil this moment. We sit like that for a long time.

Finally, she breaks the silence, and asks me the time. I have no idea, but it appears to be getting dark. However, against the dim light of the setting sun, I see three very familiar silhouettes. As Serra, Lord Hector, and Mark come into the tent, I know instantly something is wrong. For one thing, Serra isn't chattering. Serra is _always_ chattering. That's one of the little quirks that make her Serra. Hector doesn't have a 'please help me' look on his face. He _always _has that look when Serra is around. Mark doesn't look any different. He always seems kind of grim, but I guess ordering people into what could mean their deaths hardens a person. I certainly don't envy his position. Once they are all inside, Serra speaks up. She pretty much says that since my arm got shattered and not cleanly broken, it is much harder to treat, and that if it doesn't heal properly, I will never be able to use it again. I understand the implications all too well. I will never be able to shoot again. My good arm tenses around her. She gives my hand a squeeze, as if to say everything will be alright. I so desperately want to believe her. I shut down after that, my chin touching my chest in despair. I can barely hold back the tears. I have no idea what was said after that, but when the others leave, she stays by my side. After a few minutes, I hear the sound of dozens of feet, both infantry boots and cavalry hooves, pounding the ground. The sound slowly fades into the distance, taking with it all of reality.

I awake to her head snuggling closer to me. My eyes slowly open. I can't wipe the sleep-sand from them, as she is holding my arm close to her, and she looks too content for me to shatter that image. She grins. I'm not quite sure what happens next, but I like it. It feels like the lightest flower petal brushes my lips. Now I'm fully awake. That is definitely something new. Then, while I am still recovering from the kiss, she drops the next bomb, an even bigger one.

She takes the initiative and tells me that we are going to get married. Well, not exactly like that. First she asked me if I _wanted _to marry her. While I babbled like an idiot, she rolled her eyes. Then, grabbing my lips, effectively silencing me, she told me to nod my head for yes or shake it for no. My choice was obvious. Of course I wanted to marry her. I had already decided on that. It was simply a matter of when, and from the look in her eyes, I could tell she didn't want to wait any longer. I nodded.

She squeaked. She _squeaked_. Suddenly, thoughts started rushing into my head. Would her father mind us deciding to get married without asking him first? What should I do about an engagement ring? I know she wouldn't mind not having one, but I knew there was no question about it. Even if she _had _proposed to me. However, these thoughts are interrupted by another kiss. If I had had any question about marrying her, they were gone now. She is _such_ an incredible kisser.

I had to ruin it, though. I started asking her what she thought about the problems that came to mind right before the kiss, although I wasn't quite thinking clearly, so I think a lot of it came out as jumbled nonsense. I really am not sure exactly what I said. It didn't matter though. She just shook her head, and kissed me again.

The other kisses were nothing compared to this one. It was everything a kiss should be. Her tongue pulled at mine, and it must have lasted at least half a minute.

Life is good.

See? The magebear told you this chapter would be fluffier. The magebear never lies. Usually.


	3. Epilogue

DISCLAIMER

The magebear is not responsible for any dental problems resulting from this sugary piece of tooth-rotting fluff.

Now that that's out of the way, the magebear welcomes you to its latest piece, a three-shot celebrating the ultimate same-class canon pairing in all of Fire Emblem; Wil and Rebecca. This is Epilogue, the chapter about Wil and Rebecca after the war. Third Person POV. Enjoy. Or don't. The magebear doesn't really care.

* * *

"Wolt! Where are you, Wolt?" A woman with green hair in a long ponytail called out. She was in her backyard, a.k.a. the forest, looking for her son. "Wil! What are you two doing out here? It's time for dinner!" Well, her son _and _her husband. "I swear, sometimes I don't know why I married him. It's impossible to tell who's older sometimes," she muttered to herself. Of course, she _did _know why she married him. That itself was one of the reasons: Wil's carefree, happy-go-lucky, optimistic attitude. It was hard not to be cheery when he was around. 

She loved him dearly, more than she loved anything else in the world, except for her son. However, he annoyed her to no end sometimes. Like now, when she had spent the last two hours making a perfect birthday dinner for them, and they were nowhere to be found. She hoped nothing had happened to them.

Rebecca had gone into labor on Wil's birthday. After the delivery, he had taken the baby from the midwife, walked to the head of the bed, and kissed her on the forehead. He told her it was the best birthday present a man could get.

Wil looked up from the deer's tracks. _Uh-oh. That's Becca. She's probably angry at me again. But, she can't blame me for introducing my son to the bow on his fifth birthday._ He looked ahead to where his son was continuing on the deer's trail, oblivious to his mother's call. _Obviously we're going to have to work on his senses, too._ "Wolt! Hold on, Wolt. Your mother's calling. She probably has dinner on the table. Let's stop for today," he said.

His son looked back at him, a look of resignation on his youthful features. "Do we have to?" Wolt whined. He had just picked up the trail of a deer, and he wanted to follow it.

"Yes, Wolt. Your mother has probably spent all afternoon cooking us a special birthday dinner. Or would you prefer eating over at Uncle Dart and Aunt Farina's house?" he didn't want to resort to that, but if Rebecca got mad enough, she might just make both of them eat over at her brother's house. Above all else, that was to be avoided.

The boy also shuddered at the prospect of eating with the ex-pirate and semi-ex-mercenary (Rebecca was convinced that Farina still took jobs for outrageous prices, because there was no other way for them to live as comfortably as they did. However, she doubted Dart knew about it).

He finally agreed to go back, reluctantly leaving the deer's trail behind. As they made their way back to the house, Wil shot a glance towards his son, and thought about how happy he was. He had a loving family, close friends, and memories of helping to save humanity. What else could a man want?

As they entered the house, their noses were filled with the aroma of Rebecca's delicious cooking. _Oh yeah. A man could definitely want that._ Wil and Wolt walked into the kitchen, and were greeted to a frying pan to the face and a harsh scolding, respectively. As he listened to Rebecca tell Wolt that he'd be eating at Aunt Farina's for a month if he was ever late for dinner again, he waited for feeling to return to his face. Once she was done scolding them, she broke down, saying how glad she was that they were safe, and that she loved them more than anything, all the while planting kisses all over their faces, first Wolt, then Wil.

As his lips met hers, Wil thought again about how good his life really was.

* * *

That's all, folks. Review or don't, your choice. Don't just review to review. If you have a question, or something meaningful to say about the story, _then_ review. And yes, the ending is crap. Expect a redo at some undecided point in time. 


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